Duo Versisque
by courtney-hanny
Summary: It's a marvelous effort, thinking back on it. She didn't think so at first, but now as the years have gone past and added nothing physically but everything emotionally she thinks that it was a good idea after all.
1. Prologo

My note: 

_This is my first story in a while, Effie's POV. This chapter is especially shorter than the others, as it is a prologue, and the only chapter based on the happenings in the book. Feel free to ask questions and tell me how to improve._

* * *

The wind whispers secrets in her ear as she balances on those shiny points under her feet. She concentrates on that little fleck of unpainted metal shining on the District sign on the opposite side of the square as she pulls her facial muscles into the familiar routine of a blinding white (yet fake) smile while, really, she's thinking about escaping back to her nice, plush home in the Capitol which outwardly appears colourful and full of obscurities while it really isn't.

Effie attempts not to peer at the children lining up, because it reminds her of that horrible time where she made the decision that saved and killed her in an instant, and not even for her benefit.

Anyone of those children could be called out to shakily get up onto the stage, and any one of those children could be dead in a matter of weeks, and its all because she plucks a delicate piece of death out of the crystal ball of life. All because of her perfectly manicured nails and her fake, high Capitol voice. All because of her.

She coughs into the microphone, and makes an effort to look over at the hard-pressed faces of her district, even though it pains her beyond belief and hits a barely closed wound. She delays saying the first words, and instead quickly prays to the good people of the earth to drop a bomb on this doomed, corrupt nation before she has to kill anyone's children. She looks around at the young girls in the crowd and peers at a girl with a face as fresh as a flower petal, with golden hair and blue eyes, and prays especially that the little girl isn't called out. "Welcome, welcome." She presents into the microphone while fluffing up her fairy floss hair with a jewelry-clad hand. A snort comes from the crowd, as well as a couple of disdainful glances from the older children, but she ignores them as she continues with her perfectly practiced speech.

"The time has come to select one courageous young man and women for the honor of representing District Twelve in the Seventy-Fourth annual Hunger Games!" She smiles flirtatiously in the cameras direction before leaning forward as far as she can in her tight, glittery green suit to speak into the microphone. "Ladies first." Standing back up straight, she smooths her dress before shuffling as best as she can in the backbreaking heels over toward the bowl. Plunging her hand inside, she prays that it isn't the golden girl that she saw before, the one that reminds her of the past. Pulling out a slip of paper just like the rest, she shuffles back over to the microphone before opening the paper like pulling off a band-aid and calls out the name while praying: not her.

The audience falls silent as a little girl from the back wobbles slightly and for a split second the crowd thinks she's going to fall over in the dirt. She regains her balance, only just, and Effie catches a glimpse of a guard's hand wrapping around the girls thin arm, and she almost forgets how horrible the world is. As she girl comes closer wide, terrified blue eyes look up at her in fear, her heart sinks into her stomach because it's the golden girl from before. And she has just condemned her to death.


	2. Primo Capitulo

_The term 'Duo Versisque' means 'Two-Faced' which should foreshadow the rest of the story. I appreciate the feedback, so keep it coming!_

* * *

Icy wafers tickled her neck and melted down her back as she hurried away from the building, arms folded firmly across her chest as she did so. She already felt the alcohol loosening the hold on her blood stream, yet her head still felt foggy and everything was still spinning slightly and glowing blue.

She could barely remember anything from the night before, but she knew that the man had yellow teeth, and a crooked smile. Which honestly didn't seem all that Capitolistic. His hair was bright yellow, but it didn't feel real. His eyes were also as unforgiving as a snake.

A shiver ran down her spine and she quickened her pace, pulling her holographic coat tighter around herself as she hurried down the slippery side path. When she walked into her family street, she looked around once before pulling off her lime, curly wig. Her short, blonde hair fell down onto her shoulders, and she plucked off the fake eyelashes as she wiped her feet on the doormat. The house was clean, just as she left it. After chucking her heels into the wardrobe she closed the outside door and hurried into the kitchen where she only pressed a simple button and out came a hot cup of tea.

She sipped it as she bustled about. After changing out of her ridiculous outfit and pulling off the fake piercings, she rubbed the makeup off of her abused skin and carefully made her way up the stairs. She ran her perfectly manicured fingernails along the plain white wall. Once she reached the next story, she flicked the light switch twice and an invisible door swung open. Looking around again, even though there is no one there, she entered and closed the hidden door behind her.

Inside the plain room, she reclines on an ornate yet plain armchair and pulls out the notebook tucked down the back behind the cushion. On it she writes down the names of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.

"What to do with you." She murmured in a language long forgotten as she starts drawing lines and writing down notes along side each drawing. She looked up, across the walls, and scanned all the other crumpled pieces of paper that look the same, each one older than the last. Then her eyes spy a smoothened yellow memory and she plucks it from the pin on the wall.

"Thom Willes and Arya Macintyre." She whispered, bringing the paper closer to read the little annotations. Her eyes flutter over something and she gasps, pushing the piece of paper away from her.

"Thom." She whispered, wiping the corners of her eyes.

* * *

She wakes up when the birds are starting to chirp in the sky. The trees look plush and green through her window, and the sky especially blue. Even if she weren't attached to it, she would know that today was the Interviews of the Tributes. Programing the sky to make sure it doesn't rain is one of the things that the Capitol does to ensure maximum happiness and festivity for the audience.

Starting her long makeup routine, she ponders if anyone would recognize her if she were to show up with minimal makeup and no wig. She figures no. And she wouldn't want anyone to see her without her disguise.

Slipping on her iconic couture heels, she grabs her purse and heads on out the door where a hovercraft is waiting for her. She smiles at the driver as she sits down, all while consciously making an effort to add unneeded layers of lipstick to her lips to ensure complete idiocy. She rests on the velvet lounge cushions with weary, because she does have a plan, and pretending not to care doesn't stop her from caring.

She thinks about those wide blue eyes in the square, and the silence that followed the picking of a beautiful, wild flower to be set in a vase. She remembers how the crowd drew in a collective gasp as the brute, unmolded girl burst forward and started screaming. She saw the older people of the town look down in sorrow as the girl stood on the stage and stared out at the audience, already changed.

She wonders if anyone thinks that she's changed. If she's become insensitive, inhumane. She wonders if they'd still recognize her, if they'd take her back. She doubts it, but it's nice to think that they still would.

Once the hovercraft lands, she smooths out her pastel mauve suit as she heads into the empty lift, pressing the twelfth level button. The sky looks a beautiful blue, as vibrant as the view from her bedroom window, though it feels like a different sky, one with a burden on its shoulders. She wonders how many times her aunty would've stared out at this view as she condemned children to death.

She meets a drunken Haymitch and a nervous Katniss and Peeta in the morning, and makes sure to act especially frivolous and unrelenting when the poor girl wobbles around in the heels that she's given her. She tries to assure her that it becomes easier, that you will be able to walk around in a dress that gets caught under the little points on the shoes that crack the side path in no time. The girl isn't stupid, and doesn't believe her.

The boy's a lot easier, and fools her for almost a second that he enjoys being there and that he loves the Capitol. The only way she can tell is the hint of sadness shading his eyes as he talks about home. She can tell he misses it.

She greets the ladies with kisses on the cheeks and the men with flirtatious smiles, as the nation gets ready for the interviews. She looks like a completely different woman again, but as she goes to sit with the other escorts, they all know whom she is. "The girl who's ever changing!" Marcus, the escort for three, remarks with a jeer and a sip of champagne. She smiles and looks away, all the while thinking 'you have no idea.'


End file.
